


White Nightmares

by MsNita



Category: Marvel
Genre: Denial, Dracula killed them or had them killed, Hospitalization, Hospitals, Imprisonment, Living Nightmare, Loki and Thor Are Not Related, Loki is lucid, Mental Breakdown, Mental Instability, Mental Institutions, Multi, Only OCs are already dead, Pansexual Wade Wilson, Reginald is not an OC, The Author Regrets Everything, The Author Regrets Nothing, The Author promises to try and keep OCs out of this, Wade Wilson is a fence-sitter, everything is wrong, nothing is what it seems
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-03
Updated: 2018-06-03
Packaged: 2019-05-17 14:33:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14834078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MsNita/pseuds/MsNita
Summary: Dracula falls asleep in his coffin only to wake into a living nightmare. Being told that everything he knew is a fantasy and that the heroes he grew to hate were only there to help him, he begins to doubt everything and himself. If he isn't the King of Vampires, then what is he? Who is he? Most importantly, how is he going to get out of this?





	White Nightmares

Dracula seethed as he stormed through his castle. Once again, he was foiled by those blasted Avengers, and more importantly, Captain America. Sensing his foul mood, all of his servants gave him a wide berth, all of them save one, Reginald.

Reginald was right on his heels keeping quiet. He was there for Dracula’s needs, whether it be as his manservant or whatever pleased Dracula at that moment. If it wasn’t for the fact that Reginald was keeping in step with him, just one step behind like he would even on Dracula’s good days, Dracula might have saw fit to paints the walls with Reginald’s insides, but he was ever the faithful servant, even on Dracula’s bad days.

Dracula could hear his heart race regardless because they both knew that it could be all over in a mere second if his lord and master saw fit. Hell, the manservant before Reginald met a rather messy end because they had thought themselves irreplaceable. Reginald wasn’t so daft, even though he took great pride in his position. He also tried to take great care for Dracula’s subjects, who could easily kill him if it wasn’t for the fact that Dracula could very well see that as treason.

He thought back to another servant that had served him, though. She was good until she had gotten an inflated ego that he found quite distasteful. However, when he allowed his servants to feast upon her much to her confusion, they commented on her being quite ‘tasteful.’ He snorted a slight bit at the horrible pun, pausing finding that it had put him in a slightly better mood.

“I am such a horrible person,” he muttered with a grin.

“Sire?” Reginald asked in confusion.

“Just thinking about Mirana,” he confessed.

“Oh?” Reginald responded, knowing very well of the many servants’ fates that held his position before him.

“Yes, ironically a pun came to mind at the memory of her,” he retorted.

“What pun might that be, sir?” Reginald inquired, knowing that if it would put his master in a better mood then it would benefit him.

“One that you wouldn’t be interested.” Dracula waved it off. “It’s a dark humor that really only monsters have… or cannibals.”

“Of course sire,” Reginald relented, knowing better than to press. “How shall you spend the rest of the day, sire?”

“I believe that I shall rest,” Dracula sighed, “I think better after a good rest.”

“Very well, milord,” he commented, following Dracula to help him prepare for sleep.

Reginald stood by and listened as Dracula gave him the orders for the tasks that he wanted done while he rested. He wrote everything down and promised to be waiting once Dracula awoke. He waited a minute or two after Dracula had closed the lid to his coffin before turning to perform the duties asked of him, or at least find someone to do the tasks he was more physically incapable of.

When Dracula awoke, he was blinded by bright lights, which made no sense. Groaning, he snapped at Reginald for why it would be so bright in his home and why his lid to his coffin was removed. He rolled over to notice that quite a few things were off.

For starters, he was not wearing his usual armor but what looked to be a hospital gown. His hair wasn’t in a ponytail, but loose and hadn’t been properly brushed in a long time it seemed. He was surrounded by white walls. Finally, to top everything off, opposite of the wall where he lay was a glass wall with a door that appeared to be locked.

He stumbled over to the door and looked around for ventilation, something that he could escape through. When he saw a vent, he grinned swearing to make the fools that placed him here regret it as he willed himself to turn to mist. Only he couldn’t turn. He looked down at his hands in surprise to see that they were still whole.

Turning to the door, he decided that if that power was denied him to use his superstrength and struck the door. Shock and fear started to coarse through him when his hand simply rebounded off of it without so much as a tiny crack. He struck it again and again, his other fist joining in when blood started to splatter against the pristine glass. He roared banging against the door, demanding answers, asking questions, and screaming for Reginald, who was nowhere to be seen.


End file.
